


vaudevillian girls and violin strings

by bettersounds (thebadguyswin)



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: AU - 1920s, Burlesque, Little bit of smut, Multi, Prohibition, Trans Character, and any other songs with a kinda 20s feel tbh, but it's better if you do aesthetic, changed the rating to explicit for language i just realised sorry, id recommend listening to those songs while you read this or maybe before/after, listen I love this? sorry, speakeasy, to the tune of love at first sight by the brobecks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9181888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebadguyswin/pseuds/bettersounds
Summary: Could this be love at first sight, or should I walk by again?You're photogenically dressed, the conversation begins.Oh god, now what did I say? Let me start over again...





	

 "Password."

“Come on, P. It’s me. You know me.” Dallon rolls his eyes and slumps his shoulder against the cold metal door. A cold metal door in a sheltered back alley behind one of the best hotels in New York, and a cold metal door which hides a hotbed of illegal activity. Drinking, dancing, gambling. There’s a password for good reason.

The response is expected. “Don’t give a shit. Password or you’re not getting in.” P’s eyes are visible through the slat in the door, and he looks unimpressed.

Josh’s hands are clasped behind his back, and he refuses to make eye contact with the accusing stare. He already regrets letting Dallon talk him into visiting this place. If his father found out, or if God forbid it actually were to get raided tonight, he’d risk putting his whole family name into disrepute. The Duns are self-made, and the definition of New Money. Joshua remembers his father working hard throughout his childhood, after making it all the way from working tough and dangerous shifts on the factory floor, to having his name on the lease for the building and his name above the gate.  The Dun name wouldn’t be able to survive any sort of scandal.

“Shit.” Dallon runs a hand through his hair, unwaxed and free to be combed through by fingers. “Fairbanks?”

The slat begins to be slid shut.

“No! No, wait. Um, Valentino?”

The slat halts for a second, then slams shut. Dallon lets out an exasperated sigh, turning to leave, before stopping at the sound of a lock being slid on the other side of the door.

“Nice guess.” P huffs as the door swings open. A short man, with tightly curled hair cropped close to his scalp and eye brows furrowed. “It’d be a shame if B missed you.”

Dallon grins smugly and tilts his head. “Yeah, it would be. I’d like to introduce Joshua Wi-,”

Josh steps forward, holding out a hand to P before Dallon can introduce him by his full name. “Josh. I'm Josh.” He smiles.

“Pete will do.” Pete’s facial expression remains unsavoury as he accepts Josh’s hand. “Not that it matters much to you.” He steps aside to allow both men to slip inside. “Not too busy tonight, there’s some tables free at the front.”

“Great.” Dallon bites his lips. “Always a pleasure, Petey.”

“Likewise.” His sarcasm is unmasked. He turns to Joshua. “Welcome to Urie’s.”

The corridor Dallon and Josh turn down is dimly lit, with mahogany wood-panelled walls, and a thick crimson carpet, and gold framed mirrors hung at regular intervals. It’s stifling, and Josh has to swallow down his anxiety. The corridor turns into a staircase which spirals down and down into the earth, underneath the hotel. The hotel will be booked by the highest echelons of society, and the majority of them will be visiting the basement. Dallon and Josh fit into both categories. There’s raucous noise which gets louder and louder the deeper they go.

“You ready?” Josh can only clearly see Dallon’s teeth reflecting in the dim light, and the outline of his figure, as they near a wooden door bordered by heavy drapes.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Josh’s hands find the pockets of his suit. His best, newest suit. Tailored to him, and designed with the latest trends in mind. His shoes are so well polished, they shine even in the poorly lit hallway.

The noise floods into Josh’s ears as Dallon pushes the door open, and they both have to blink as their pupils contract. Bright lights, music, perfume, cigarettes, singing. It’s an assault on all of their senses.

Urie’s is the finest establishment of its kind in New York City. Catering to the elite, it has the finest moonshine one can brew up, the best entertainment, and most importantly, the highest security. Its safety comes in the form of its owner, Mr Urie, who has half of the NYPD in his pocket. It’s the son of Mr Urie who runs the place under the Hotel Cortez. Urie’s occupies the lower ground floor of the hotel, inaccessible save for the door in the alleyway and one secreted staircase somewhere in the building.

The mahogany and crimson colour scheme of the corridor continues inside. Velvet lines the walls, and white cloths cover the circular table tops. A bar stretches along one wall and a stage is set opposite. Tonight, most of the tables are occupied by faces which Josh recognises from parties and newspapers. Barmen busy themselves behind the counter, mixing and pouring, while waiters and waitresses scurry from table to table earning tips and serving drinks. A small band, with a couple string, brass, and wind instruments, is set up to one side of the stage. A man in a long sleeved shirt, a waistcoat, and a golden mask covering his face sings on stage. He’s flanked by dancers and backed by a red curtain.

“You like what you see?” Dallon murmurs, his breath tickling Josh’s ear.

Josh’s mouth hangs loose, and he nods.

“Let’s grab a table.” Dallon leads the way to a table in the front row, settling himself into a surprisingly comfortable chair and Josh sits next to him.

Almost immediately, a small, sandy haired waiter appears beside their table and, in a hushed voice so as not to disturb anyone nearby enjoying the performance, takes their orders.

“Brandy Alexander.” Josh smiles, his stomach starting to settle as he becomes more comfortable in his surroundings.

“Mint Julep.” Dallon leans back in his chair.

“Right away, sir.” The boy is chipper and eager to please. The eager ones get better tips.

Josh nods towards the man on stage. “He’s not a bad singer.”

“I’d say.” Dallon raises his eyebrows and watches for a moment. “Not bad dancers, either.” He adds quickly.

The dancing girls expose a shocking amount of skin, suspenders on display when they kick their legs and shoulders shimmering. Josh’s collar feels tight, so he keeps his focus on the man and his voice and his slicked back hair. It doesn’t help as much as Josh would like.

The singer ends his song on a piercingly high note, and the audience applauds. The waiter reappears with their drinks, and they sip it as the singer begins to speak with a smooth, clear voice.

“Thank you all so much for coming out tonight, I really hope you’re all enjoying yourselves.” He coos, gripping the microphone stand and letting his backing dancers shuffle offstage. “But I’m sure you’re all more than ready for our main act tonight.”

He pauses here, as a few excited mutters circulate through the tables.

“Who?” Josh whispers.

“Just you wait.” Dallon replies, sipping his drink.

“Without further ado, please welcome to the stage tonight, Miss Tallulah.” The singer bows his head and scoots backwards into the wings.

The band strikes the first note as the red curtain is lifted, and a figure steps forward. Josh’s breath catches in his throat as she nears the microphone, moving slowly, one foot in front of the other, and staring out to the back of the room. Her blonde curls are set and pinned expertly. Her lips are painted a deep, dark red, her eyes are smoky, her eyebrows are painted on in a high arch, and her low-cut dress is silver and beaded and sways with her hips. White silk gloves reach past her elbows. She wears no jewellery, save for a simple silver band on her index finger.

The song is slow and mournful, and her voice is beautiful. Josh’s drink sits forgotten as his eyes are fixed on the performer.

“Are you feeling okay?” Dallon breathes, clearly amused.

“She’s gorgeous.” Josh’s eyes don’t leave the stage. “I gotta meet her.”

“You’re that smitten already?” Dallon glances at the stage. “You just laid eyes on her.”

“She’s the prettiest thing.”

Tallulah performs seven songs, each more beautiful to Josh than the last.

 The waiter, Josh learns his name is Patrick, keeps them well stocked in terms of drinks. As Josh drinks, he feels himself get calmer and braver.

“Thank you so much for your time.” Tallulah smiles and gazes around the room at no one in particular as she finishes her final song. “I’ll see you all soon, I hope.” She blows a kiss to her audience as they clap and whistle.

The singer from before steps back on stage, kissing Tallulah on the cheek and exchanging places with her. “The lovely Tallulah! What a gal.” He laughs. He introduces the next act, a group of dancers, and disappears.

“I need to get backstage.” Josh whispers to Dallon, urgent.

“What?”

“Tallulah. I gotta meet her.” He insists.

“Right now?”

“When else?”

Dallon looks around, pushing air out through his nose. “Alright. I can try.” Dallon stands, and indicates that Josh should follow him to a door at the side of the stage. They abandon their glasses half-full, but their table is cleared and another two people have been seated in their place before they’ve even reached the door. It’s gotten busier as the night has gone on.

Dallon taps sharply on the door, loud enough to be heard over the music of the band, but not too loud as to draw attention to themselves.

The door opens, and the masked singer’s eyes light up as he spots Dallon. “I’m so glad you could make it.” He gushes, before he notices Josh standing behind him. “And who is this?”

“Joshua.” Dallon answers for him. “He’s a bit of a fan of your best girl.”

“My best girl?” The singer raises his eyebrows and snorts. “A façade. An act. An angel on stage, but the rest of the time…” He blows a raspberry. “A devil.”

“I need to meet her.” Josh insists.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The singer turns to lead the way back stage, through the door and into an open area. Screens offer some privacy to changing performers, and well-lit mirrors occupied by dancers applying make-up and straightening out costumes are everywhere to be seen.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Josh walks quickly behind the singer, with Dallon trailing behind.

“I didn’t throw it.” The singer doesn’t even glance at Josh. “Hey, T.” He calls.

Tallulah looks around from her spot by a mirror. Hair pins gripped between her teeth as she moves her hands over her hair, feeling for bumps. Her gloves are abandoned on the dresser littered with make-up and flowers and jewellery. Her dress is halfway unzipped at the back.

“Whaddyah want? I sang okay, didn’t I?” She waves her hand dismissively. “Debby, honey. Pass me that, will ya?”

A red haired girl beside her slides over a square compact.

“Apparently so.” The singer grins. “You got yourself a fan.” He waves Josh forward.

Josh wants to step forward, introduce himself, ask Tallulah how she is and what she’s doing and what she wants to do. But he freezes. He sways, but it’s not from the drink.

“Cat got your tongue?” Tallulah raises a drawn on eyebrow. From this proximity, her face is cakey and powdery, her already full lips over-lined at the cupid's bow and underlined at the sides. Like a bee sting. Her real eyebrows show faintly underneath layers of powder, bushier and less defined than the pencil thin replacements. She’s still the most beautiful thing Josh has seen.

“I… My name is Joshua. Joshua Dun.” He manages, eventually.

“Josh, huh?” She smacks her lips. “And B’s friend Dallon, if I remember rightly.”

Dallon snickers. “You got me.”

“So.” She turns her attention back to Josh, her eyes burning into his skin. “How can I help _you_?”

“I… I…” Josh swallows. “I saw you perform tonight.”

“Go figure.” She snorts.

“You have a beautiful voice.” Josh stares at his shoes.

“I know.” She replies. She unzips her dress entirely and it drops to the floor. “Do you mind? I need to change for my dance number.”

“Not… Not at all.” Josh’s cheeks burn, and he looks everywhere apart from the woman in a corset in front of him.

She strips her nude stockings off her legs and replaces them with black stockings. “You’re lucky I chose to wear my costume under my dress, or else you’d be getting an eye-full.” She winks and stuffs padding into the cups, under her breasts. They grow more prominent.

“Y-You… I mean, you’re… You’re beautiful. Anyway. I should go.” Josh says quickly. “Unless you’d want to…”

She picks up the square compact and spits in her mascara cake, wiggling the brush into the paste. “I’d want to what?” She coats her eyelashes.

“If you… I mean, I have money. I can pay.”

“For what?”

“Your company.”

She pauses from applying her make up. “My company? What are you implying, mister?”

Josh ignores the sharp intake of breath of Dallon and ‘B’. “I just thought…”

“I ain’t a whore, Mr Dun. I don’t even do private dances.” She narrows her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Yes you did.” She interrupts. “You know what you meant.” Her voice is disappointed rather than hurt or angry.

“Hey, T.” Another voice calls over to Tallulah. A pretty blonde girl with blue eyes and a matching outfit. “We’re on in three.”

“Alright, J. I gotta go.” Tallulah announces. “Nice seeing you again, Dallon. Not so nice seeing you, Mr Dun. But maybe you’ll stick around for my dance. You clearly like what you see.” She rolls her eyes and drops her compact onto the dresser with a clatter. She goes to the girl who called her over, standing with a group of girls in coordinating dress. She grabs a headdress from a rack and helps another adjust a corset.

“Told you.” B smirks. “Angel on stage…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Josh sighs, thinking that he’d blown it for sure. “Devil the rest of the time.”

* * *

Josh sees her dance that night. He sees her dance the next night, too. And the night after. She dances most nights at Urie’s, and most nights, Josh can be found at a table in the front row, his eyes never leaving the stage. He takes to buying a flower from the florist across the road from the hotel and leaving it with B. He knows Tallulah receives it, because he knows B is honourable despite his secrecy, but he never receives an invite backstage.

Dallon is a little concerned at first, by the amount of time and money Josh much spend at the illegal club, but what else is Josh to spend his money on? Dallon can understand.

Tonight, Tallulah’s stockings are nude, and her corset is a deep navy blue. Her blonde hair is set into marcel curls. A string of long pearls is wound around her neck and the silver ring is on her pointer finger. Her lips are painted bright red, and for once she’s left her eyebrows alone. She’s a performer, and has the attention of the entire room as she sways and dances and sings.

Josh rubs a petal of the blue carnation wrapped in tissue that is set on his table. He’d buy her the whole shop if he could carry all the flowers in, but he always settles for just one. One flower he can slip into his pocket to avoid stares of passers-by as he walks to the alley. He’s glad he picked blue, as it matches her costume perfectly tonight. A tag is tied to the stalk. A last ditch attempt to catch her attention. His initials, and a room number, and one word, “ _Please_.” He’s staying in the hotel tonight, and wants so desperately to talk to her properly, somewhere where he might not stumble over his words.

“Another?” B smiles after Josh has knocked on the door to the side of the stage after her act is done. “You’re persistent.”

“I just want to talk to her.” Josh sighs. “Tell her… Tell her this is my last flower. If she’s so uninterested, I can’t change her mind. But I’d still love to talk to her just once.”

B raises one eyebrow, and his eyes twinkle behind the mask. “You got it. Enjoy your stay.” He winks.

Hot under the collar and red in the cheek, Josh scurries out and up the stairs.

“See ya tomorrow, J.” Pete nods as he passes.

“Maybe, P.” Josh shrugs. “This whole thing… Mighta been a waste of time.” He exits into the alley, the air thick and heavy with mist.

Entering the hotel is very different to entering Urie’s. The hotel is lavishly decorated and sparklingly clean. Almost garish. A smiling receptionist greets Josh as he pushes the revolving doors, and he waves his key, smiling and letting her know he doesn’t need her services. The elevator operator recognises him more readily, taking him to his floor without needing to ask which room he has.

Josh picked a smaller room this time. The large suites felt like too much space for someone who did not entertain guests. Now, he almost wishes he had a larger room, although he doubts his invitation will be accepted.

He loosens his bow tie, slips off his jacket, and pours a drink from the small bottle of scotch secreted in his case. A present for being a loyal customer of Urie’s. He kicks his shoes off and lies on the bed. Cotton sheets and plump pillows mould to his body and he sips his drink. His father bemoans the state of alcohol in the country since “that bloody amendment” passed, but it’s all Josh has ever known. He doesn’t know any different from the bitter, stinging taste of bootleg liquor. It does the same job, he reasons. Why care?

He’s considering another drink, when there’s a quiet tap at the door. He waits for the call of room service, but there’s silence. Frowning, he goes to the door and opens it.

She’s there. Marcel curls, white dress, red lips. No pearls, this time, but still the silver ring, and a beaded clutch in one hand.

“You came.”

She smiles, and puts on hand on his shoulder. “You said please.” She pushes him to one side and slips into his room. “Good manners should be rewarded.”

“I didn’t think… Why now?”

“B told me you wouldn’t push me. I like that.” She coyly looks over her shoulder, before she spies the opened bottle on Josh’s dresser. “May I?”

“Of course.” Josh quickly pours her a drink in a clean glass. “Here, Tallulah.”

She shakes her head and accepts the drink. “Stage name. Don’t use it. Not here.”

“Oh.” Josh clears his throat. “Sorry. What’s your name?”

“Call me T.”

“That’s not your real name.” Josh frowns.

She laughs. “Of course it isn’t. But it’s all you get.”

“Oh, my dear. Please, let me know your name.”

She raises her eyebrows. “If you weren’t to push me before, you shan’t now. Maybe one day you can earn my name. But for now, I am T.”

Josh knows how Urie’s works. Concealed or fake names protect customers and employees. He still wishes he knew her name.

“Okay. T it is.”

She sips the drink, swallowing it without wincing. “So, why did you ask me here?”

“I want to talk.” Josh answers truthfully. “I want to know you.”

“That’s what B said. Can’t help but think you want something more.” She sits on his bed and leans back on her elbows, sticking her flat chest out. “You do, don’t you?”

Josh swallows. “Maybe at the beginning. But after seeing you perform so often, you have a story.”

“What makes you think that?”

“No one can perform with such talent and emotion without a story.” Josh smiles. “I’d like to hear yours.”

“Then would you like to fuck me?”

Josh nearly chokes on his drink. “You said… You said you weren’t a…”

T laughs, throwing her head back. “I’m not. If I want to fuck someone, I fuck someone. I don’t need payment for it.”

“Oh.” Josh says, finally understanding. “I think I’d like that, yes.”

She stands, setting her drink on the nightstand and going to Josh. Her hands rest against his chest. “Then, can my story wait? I’d hate for you to lose interest.”

Her perfume clouds his nostrils, deep brown eyes gaze into his, and his hands roam to grip her shoulders. “I think… Maybe…”

T leans in first, pressing her lips against Josh’s. He tastes her drink and lipstick and cigarettes. Her fingers work to undo his shirt buttons, and he unzips her dress. Both articles of clothing fall to the floor, and then she’s already working to unfasten his trousers.

“Have you done this before?” T asks through half-closed eyes.

Shyly, Josh shakes his head.

“Then allow me.” She takes his hand and leads him to the bed. Their underwear is stripped and abandoned on the floor, and Josh can’t help but touch and stroke every inch of her body. Smooth legs, save for one missed patch behind her right knee, soft chest and sharp shoulder blades.

Josh sits, his back against the headboard. She’s flushed pink and trembling as she sits on his legs, straddling his thighs. She presses kisses to his neck, chest, shoulders, leaving pinkish imprints and purplish bruises. 

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful.” He whispers into her neck. He doesn’t want to leave marks, mindful of her performances, so he kisses her chest and swirls his tongue over the soft, sensitive skin.

Her lipstick is smeared, and Josh swears he sees the edge of a wig cap under the blonde curls, but he doesn’t care as they move together.

Josh thought he might have been nervous on his first encounter, but he is surprisingly calm and focused, too mesmerised by T's beauty, scent, and enthusiasm. He feels himself climbing, rising, soaring, before he falls back into bed beside his partner. The sheets are damp from perspiration, and stick to their skin. 

“So.” She says, breathing heavy and lying back on the pillow. Josh lies beside her, and scoops her closer with one arm. “Did you like that?”

“I’d say.” His chest is heaving and eyes are heavy. “Now, you.”

“Excuse me?”

Josh’s eyes close. “Your story.”

“You’re falling asleep.” She whispers, cheek against his bicep and legs entwining with his. “In the morning.”

“The morning.” Josh is already drifting off. “Yes, the morning. I want to know everything about you.”

“The morning.” She agrees, and it’s the last thing Josh hears before his eyes cloud, and he sleeps.

* * *

He could have guessed, should have known, that he’d wake up to an empty bed. His clothes remain on the floor, but T’s are gone. A napkin with the shape of plump lips imprinted in scarlet left on his dresser is the only clue that she was ever here. He’s disappointed, but not surprised. And he knows not to push her. He only wishes he knew if he’d ever see her again. He slips the napkin, folded, into his wallet, never wanting to forget her at least.

He can’t go to Urie’s that night. His father needs him at a social gathering. It’ll be in some wealthier person’s house. Someone who inherited their fortune, rather than made it like his father did. Not that he can judge, as he’ll inherit his fortune too. But he has the pressure of being new to the game. Hushed voices follow him at these parties, as people not so subtly point him out to friends and relatives.

“ _Joshua Dun_.” They’ll whisper. “ _His father was a nobody. Look at them now_.”

Josh can manage these parties, as long as they’re few and far between. He’ll have to go to more, though, as his father grows older and he starts taking on more of the business’ responsibilities.

He washes yesterday’s wax out of his hair and restyles it, and puts on a good suit. All of his suits are good, they have to be.

His father sends a car to his hotel, and he gets in.

“Which house is it this time?” He asks the driver.

“The Josephs, Mr Dun.” The chauffeur replies. “Nice little mansion in the suburbs.”

“I bet it’s lovely.” The rest of the ride is in silence. Not out of disrespect to the driver, but because Josh is tired and his mind is preoccupied by the company he shared last night.

The car pulls along a long drive, lined with birch trees and firs, and stops outside the steps leading up to double doors at the front of the building.

“Not bad at all.” Josh murmurs, and slips out of the car.

“When do you want your pick up, Mr Dun?”

“If I’m not outside in three and a half hours, consider your job done.” He winks, and watches the car drive away. Enough time to meet social expectations, but not long enough to make him overly uncomfortable.

“Joshua Dun!” A familiar voice greets him immediately as he enters the Joseph residence. Dallon is all smiles and hugs. “I thought you’d be at… well…”

“Keep your voice down.” Josh hisses. “My father expects me to be here, so here I am. Besides, I’m not sure how welcome I’d be any more.”

Dallon gasps. “Tallulah barred you?”

“Goodness, no.” Josh presses his lips together to stop him smiling. “Quite the opposite.”

“You dog, Joshua William Dun.” Dallon smacks his back. “So what, a quick fuck and you back off?”

Josh shrugs. “If she’s finished with my company, then yes.”

“She really is a devil.” Dallon breathes. “Anyway, come along. There are people you must meet.”

Josh is used to this aspect of parties. Connections are established, friendships are formed, and deals are made. These social gatherings are never entirely social.

Josh becomes dizzy as he learns new names and families and businesses, but he manages. It’s civilised and much quieter than his recent nights out.

“This,” Dallon reaches a man with slicked back hair and impeccable dress sense. “Is Brendon. Brendon Urie.”

The man turns, and Josh has to stop himself bursting into laughter. “Mr Urie.” He winks, and offers his hand. “Joshua. Joshua Dun.”

Brendon’s face lights up. Without his mask, Josh can see strong brows and a broad forehead. He’s handsome and charming, all of the qualities one would need to perform on stage.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Brendon says smoothly, as if he hadn’t spoken to Josh every night for the past three weeks. “I can see us becoming firm friends, you and I. Any friend of Dallon’s is sure to be decent.”

“You flatter me.” Dallon smiles. His hand brushes over Brendon’s bicep, lingering for a second, while Brendon’s fingers touch the small of his back. Josh averts his eyes and pretends not to notice.

Brendon seems almost giddy during his discussion, telling Josh gleefully about his father’s business he’s starting to take over.

“I’m well accustomed to your hotel.” Josh laughs. “I just came from there. A lovely establishment.”

“It really is. We’re very proud of it. I hope to expand it. Buy up other hotels and expand it into a sort of chain. It’s only fair that as many people as possible have the pleasure of Urie hospitality.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Josh laughs, hoping Brendon knows he refers to both the hotel and his side business.

“Have you met the hosts of this party?” Brendon smiles, and lights a cigarette. “Good people, the Josephs.”

“I haven’t, not yet. I suppose I should.”

“Come.” Brendon beckons him. “I’m good friends with their eldest son.”

“What’s his name?” Josh asks, embarrassed that he doesn’t know.

“Tyler.” Brendon replies.

Josh nods, and follows Brendon through to the parlour. It’s quieter here, populated by fewer than ten people.

“Tyler, you have a new guest to greet.” Brendon coos, putting his hand on the shoulders of a thin man.

His dress is well taken care of and freshly laundered, but still clearly a few years old. The style suits him, though. His hair is brown and combed back, his cheeks are clean shaven, his lips are full, his eyelashes are long and…

 _They must be related_.

Josh can’t help but stare for a second, before he offers his hand. “Joshua. Dun.” He stammers.

“Tyler Joseph.” He takes his hand. His voice is soft, as are his hands. A silver ring is on his pointer. A family trend, perhaps. “Pleasure.”

“You have a lovely home.” Josh smiles. “This soiree has been in my diary for weeks, I’ve been looking forward to it.”

“I’m sure you have.” Tyler smirks. “Dun, you say? William’s boy?”

“Yes, the very same.” Josh laughs, then catches a flash of blue in Tyler’s lapel. “A lovely flower, you have there.” He stares at the carnation on Tyler’s breast. It’s the same shade as the one he gave T. _So that’s what she does with them_. “From an admirer?” He gestures to Tyler’s chest.

A smile creeps onto Tyler’s lips. “Of sorts.”

Brendon contains himself well. “Tyler seems to have a different flower every day.”

“I’m just glad I know people with taste. They’re always such nice offerings.”

“Blue suits you.” Josh says, unable to stop his words.

“Excuse me?” Tyler chuckles.

“Blue.” Josh exhales. “I mean, it’s a nice colour. You carry it well.”

“Thank you, Joshua.” Tyler smiles. “I was going to take a walk around the grounds, clear my head. Would either of you care to join me?”

“I’m okay, thanks.” Brendon raises his hands. “Dallon and I have some business to attend to.”

“Of course, Brendon.” He turns to Josh. “How about you, Joshua? Care to let me show you around? You did say you liked the house.”

“It’d be my pleasure.” Josh smiles.

“Then please.” Tyler holds out one arm towards the door. “After you.”

Josh heads towards the front door, followed closely by Tyler. The night is cool and fresh, and Josh keeps his hands in his pockets to keep them warm.

“My father recently planted in the gardens. There’ll be a maze, soon. In a few years at least. And the flower beds will bloom in a few weeks.” Tyler nods towards squares of dirt outside the house. “I do like flowers.”

They walk for a few moments, following a path around to the back of the house, where there are trees and a gazebo. A few guests mill around in the gravel courtyard, smoking and chatting. The house and grounds are tastefully decorated and well kept. _Tyler’s family really are doing well_ , Josh thinks.

They keep walking, between trees and across grass.

“Is that why she gives you them?” Josh asks.

Tyler frowns in confusion. “Who?”

“Your sister.”

“Maddison?” Tyler glances at his lapel. “Oh, Maddison didn’t give me this.”

“She didn’t?” _Maddison_. It must be her. How else would Tyler get his tokens?

“No, why would she?”

“Then how…”

Tyler tilts his head to one side. “How what?”

“How did you get my flower?” Josh stares at the carnation, his confidence wavering. Unless it wasn’t his carnation, but it looked so similar. He is so sure he can see where he pinched the petals.

“What makes you think it’s yours?” Tyler clears his throat, and puts his hand on his chest.

“I… I’m not so sure now…” Josh is cut off by a fit of coughing from Tyler. “Are you okay?”

Tyler tries to nod, but ends up shaking his head. “Can’t… Can’t…” His knees buckle and land on soft grass. The lights of the house are in the distance, and panic grips him. He tugs at the buttons on his shirt, before his vision starts to speckle and blur.

Josh crouches beside him, and puts his hands over his. “Here.” Josh pulls the shirt open easily. There’s fabric under his shirt. “What…” Josh frowns and slides his hands under the fabric. It’s tight, and compressing Tyler’s ribs. A sharp tug rips it, and it starts to loosen and unravel as it slides down Tyler’s chest to his navel.

Tyler takes a long, shaky breath, and pulls his shirt closed over his breasts.

 _He… He’s… He’s her_.

Tears threaten to spill out onto Tyler’s cheeks as he looks up at Josh. “Th-thanks.” He stutters, pulling the fabric out from under his shirt and doing up his shirt buttons. “Stupid thing…” He tosses it into the grass.

“You… You’re…” Josh gasps. His own vision starts to speckle.

“Take it easy, Joshua.” Tyler coos. “T is for Tyler.”

“But you… We… I…”

“My name is Tyler Joseph. I’m Christopher Joseph’s son. Tallulah is a stage name. She’s an act.”

“A façade.” Josh adds.

“Exactly.” Tyler sighs, and scrambles to his feet. “I’d appreciate it if you kept the two separate.”

“But your hair.” Josh is still clearly in shock, and hasn’t gotten to his feet yet.

Tyler rolls his eyes. “A wig.” Tyler grasps Josh under his armpits and pulls him up.

“But you are… your…”

“Cunt?”

“Yeah.”

Tyler sighs. “You still want to hear my story?”

Josh nods, gripping Tyler’s arm like a lifeline.

“And you won’t… Sell it? To the press?”

Josh shakes his head. “I swear on my life, my father’s business…”

Tyler waves his hands. “Enough with the theatrics, I get enough of that at Urie’s. That’ll do.” He takes Josh’s arm. “Let’s walk.”

The Josephs’ grounds are extensive, and Tyler has enough path to walk along for Josh to hear his story. And Josh _listens_.

“I wasn’t born Tyler, but you can probably guess that. But it’s a better name for me than anything else. I grew up the eldest of four. Zachariah is younger than me, as is Maddison. I became Tyler after my father and brother returned from the Great War.”

Tyler stops, his eyes glazing. “I had another brother. Jay, my baby brother. He didn’t make it back. I miss him.” Tyler touches the silver ring on his index finger, and Josh feels foolish not realising it was the same ring earlier. “This is all I have to remember him by.”

“I’m sorry.” Josh breathes. He’d avoided conscription, thankfully. It had been a pointless war anyway.

Tyler shrugs. “He shouldn’t have gone in the first place, he was a baby. But he wanted to be just like his big brother and his father, so he managed. My father came back though, in one piece. So did Zachariah, mostly. I think part of him was lost over there, though. That’s why I became Tyler.”

“Your brother… He’s not…”

“He doesn’t want the business. He doesn’t want any part of it. He blames my father, I suppose, so wants nothing to do with him. My mother does. Jay was her favourite. She’s bedbound, mostly. Maddison got married off to some rich businessman. Zachariah was all set to forgo his role in the inheritance. If he’d done that, our business would be lost and merged into Maddy’s husband’s business. I’d have had to marry some rich fool to stay alive.”

Josh puts his hand over Tyler’s hand, which still grasps his arm. “So, Tyler?”

He nods. “Tyler was born. My brother’s name is on the lease and the contracts, for legal reasons, but I take on pretty much all other responsibilities. We moved, after the war, from Ohio to New York. No one around here knew that my father’d had two sons and two daughters. As far as everyone here knows, the Joseph children are two boys and one girl.” Tyler smiles sadly.

“And you are actually…”

“A boy.” Tyler says firmly. “I don’t give a shit what’s between my legs. I never liked being a girl. Becoming Tyler for the business was just an excuse. This is who I was always meant to be.”

“And Tallulah?”

He laughs. “A nice side project. I never liked being a girl. I never said I disliked their clothes and make-up.”

Josh laughs too, smiling at the boy walking beside him. “You make a pretty girl…” Tyler frowns at that, opening his mouth, but Josh cuts him off. “But I think you’re a prettier boy.”

Tyler blushes, his mouth still open, and stammers. “Y-you… You believe me?”

Josh frowns. “Why wouldn’t I? You seem more comfortable here, with me now, than you did last night. And it shows. You’re more beautiful to me now than you ever were when I was mistaking you for a girl.”

Tyler flushes even brighter. “I felt like I was lying to you last night.”

“In a way, you were.” Josh sighs. “But understandably so. I just wish you’d told me last night.”

“You might have hurt me.”

“I said, it’s understandable. It’s okay. I’m glad you were able to tell me now.” Josh smiles, and puts his hand to Tyler’s cheek. “You never have to lie to me again.”

A tear falls down Tyler’s cheek, sliding into Josh’s thumb. He flicks it away. “Okay.” He murmurs, his voice thick.

“And Brendon?” Josh raises his eyebrows. “Or should I say ‘B’?”

Tyler bursts into a fit of giggles. “Yeah, he knows. He knew me before. His family travelled a lot, and our families became friends. I think everyone hoped we’d marry.”

“Yikes.” Josh laughs. “I don’t think Dallon would be so overjoyed.”

Tyler bites his lip. “You know?”

“About Dallon and Brendon?” Josh snorts. “I guessed as much. How long?”

“Months.” Tyler sighs. “They have a room reserved at all times at the Cortez.”

“I should have guessed as much.”

“You’re very open minded, Mr Dun.” Tyler says in a mocking tone. “Boys with vaginas, boys with boy lovers. It doesn’t seem to faze you.”

“Should it?”

“Maybe.” Tyler tilts his head. “But I’m glad it doesn’t.”

“As am I.” Josh grins. “Now, Mr Joseph. Your guests must be missing you. Shall we?” He nods back in the direction of the house.

“I think it would be a good idea, Mr Dun.” Tyler beams, and offers his arm. Josh takes it, and they walk back to the house.

“Your chest.” Josh asks before they are within earshot of the guests. “Will it be okay?”

Tyler glances down. He’s not particularly well endowed, but there’s still a slight slope to his jacket now. “If we don’t draw attention to it.” He slips the carnation out of his buttonhole and fixes it into Josh’s.

“It was intended for you.”

“Then you will have to return it to me at some point.” Tyler’s eyes shine. “But for now, it is entrusted into your care.”

“What would you do with it when I return it? What would you do with me?” Josh’s top teeth graze his bottom lip.

“The flower will join its predecessors, pressed between the leaves of my bible at my bedside.” Tyler rests his hand on Josh’s chest. “As for you…” Tyler winks, and says no more as they reach the outskirts of the house.

Josh takes his wallet out of his pocket and slides the kiss-stained napkin from it. “Insurance.” Josh tucks it into Tyler’s breast pocket, concealed behind a blue silk handkerchief. “I can’t wait.”

* * *

Joshua’s father is overjoyed to learn that his son is close friends with the eldest Joseph son. Parties and dinners continue, but now Josh enjoys them much more when word reaches him that Tyler Joseph would be in attendance.

There are mocking whispers whenever they’re at the same party, about how they’re practically joined at the hip. They circulate the guests, making their much needed business and social links, but it’s barely two hours into any gathering before they find themselves in the same room, sharing cigarettes and in-jokes.

“A good business link there, Joshua.” His father tells him after one such event. He slaps his son’s back. “We’ll make a businessman of you yet. It’s a shame there’s not a spare Joseph girl to get you married to. Think of the possibilities!”

Josh laughs awkwardly at that.

 _If only he knew_ , Josh thinks to himself, _how close we are_.

Josh shamelessly spends a lot of time at Urie’s, but only on nights when Tyler performs, which admittedly is most nights. Now, however, he saves money. He no longer needs to pay for a room, and instead stays in Tyler’s room free of charge. Brendon would complain, but he’d be a hypocrite. Dallon hasn’t paid for a room since his first night in the Cortez.

Josh gives Tyler a flower every night, but now he can slip backstage and press a kiss to his cheek and pin the flower in his hair. Tyler blushes under the powder on his face and rests his head against Josh’s chest. The other dancers coo and wave when this happens, and Josh feels so very lucky.

Josh watches Tyler perform, grinning like a madman from the front row. Tyler still sings beautifully and mournfully, but now he sings of love and happiness on occasion too. He always steals glances at Josh whenever he does.

After Tyler has performed, he dresses and he and Josh steal away to their hotel room. The hotel staff think they’re a couple, which is adorable to Josh and amusing to Tyler. Josh is referred to as “Mr Joseph” more often than he’d care to admit, but he doesn’t correct them.

Josh helps with unpinning Tyler’s wig and washing away his stage make up. Tyler undresses and changes into the masculine clothes he prefers, usually a loose shirt and slacks. They order room service and listen to music on the radio.

Some nights, they have sex. Josh was previously a novice, but with Tyler’s expertise and guidance he soon learns.

Some nights, they lie on the bed and talk. Josh finds it amusing that neither of them were meant for their lives. Tyler was intended for marriage, his name to be assimilated into some other family’s history and in all likelihood forgotten. Josh’s name was never intended to be above a factory gate. Yet here both of them were, respected members of their society.

“I never thought, when I was a boy, that I’d be in line to inherit one of the largest businesses in New York.” Josh sighs, his head resting on Tyler’s soft chest. “My father was poor. So poor. But he was good at his job. Trustworthy. His boss liked him, and he just kept climbing. By the time I was born, he was the right hand man of his boss. A few years later, he was written into his will. A childless man. He lost his sons in the war. His wife passed away from the grief. It’s so unfair, that he had to go through that for my family to make it.”

Tyler strokes his chest and his hair. “At least your father’s work didn’t go without reward.”

“I guess.” Josh clasps Tyler’s hand. “But the war took so much.” He traces the silver ring on Tyler’s finger.

“It did.” Tyler chokes back tears. “So much.”

Tonight, they lie beside each other. They’d barely made it into the room before Tyler had pushed Josh against a wall and fallen to his knees. Josh had taken the time to remove Tyler’s wig as he’d taken Josh into his mouth and sucked until Josh’s knees buckled.

Now, Josh’s head is in Tyler’s bare lap. Tyler still breathes heavily from Josh returning the favour, and they pass a lit cigarette between them.

“I love you.” Josh whispers.

“What?” Tyler freezes, his hand combing through Josh’s brown curls.

“I… I love you. Is that okay?”

The tears spill out onto Tyler’s cheeks, and Josh sits up. “You love me?”

“Is that okay? Did I do something wrong?” Josh frets.

“No… No you silly… I love you too.” Tyler sobs.

Josh breathes a sigh of relief. “Why are you crying?”

Tyler shakes his head. “It’s silly. I just never thought…”

“Never thought what?”

“I never thought someone would say that to me.” Tyler takes a few deep breaths, and laughs softly.

Josh smiles wide. “We’ve all been mistaken before.”

Tyler swats his chest. “We should marry.”

Josh’s breathe catches in his throat. “Is that the best idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Tyler frowns. “Legally, we can.”

“I couldn’t marry you as Tyler.” Josh blinks.

“I am Tyler. I can live as him, as your husband. Who cares what name is on the certificate?”

“I don’t even know what name would be on the certificate, and I don’t want to know.” Josh links his fingers with Tyler’s. “That name isn’t you.”

“You don’t want to marry me?” Tyler averts his eyes, but keeps their hands together.

“More than anything, but I wouldn’t be marrying you. I’d be marrying a seldom-seen mysterious Joseph daughter. The gossip would be unbearable. People might realise Tyler and my wife were one and the same. Is that what you’d want?”

“But.” Tyler scoots closer, and wraps his arms around Josh’s middle. “I’m scared, Josh.”

“Whatever for?”

“I’ve kept up this identity for so long now, but it can’t last.” Tyler traces his fingers across Josh’s chest. “People are going to find out I’m not a real man one day.”

“You are a real man, Tyler.”

Tyler snorts, but smiles. “Not everyone will be like you. Fuck knows, I don’t know how I managed to find you. But I never want to let you go. I’d rather marry you and have people think I’m a different person to your husband, than be outed without my consent.”

“You’re never gonna get rid of me.” Josh laughs, and presses a kiss to Tyler’s temple. “I’ll marry you, but I’m marrying Tyler Joseph. I don’t even want to see the marriage certificate. We will live as husband and husband.”

Tyler giggles, his eyes brimming with happiness. “So is that a yes?”

“Is what a yes?”

Tyler pouts. “To marriage? You’ll marry me?”

Josh laughs. “Of course I’ll marry you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Tyler practically squeals and climbs into Josh’s lap. He presses kiss along his jaw and down his neck while Josh laughs and holds his hips steady. “I love you, Joshua Dun. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Tyler Joseph.”

* * *

The minister who marries them does not ask questions. He doesn’t ask why Josh asks him not to use their names in their vows, or why Josh gets his best man to cover one half of the register when he signs it.  He doesn’t ask why the blonde girl he’s marrying wears a suit. He doesn’t recognise their surnames, and doesn’t ask why the only witnesses are two men and two women, all clearly not in their best dress.

Dallon laughed heartily when Josh told him of his intentions, but was entirely supportive. He almost demanded to be the best man. As long as he could bring Brendon, of course.

Josh frowned when two girls showed up before the ceremony, one blonde and one redhead, but when Tyler cried and pulled them both into hugs, he understood. He recognised them from the line of dancers at Urie’s and realised they must know Tyler from his work.

“They overheard Tyler and me last night talking after his show.” Brendon whispered into Josh’s ear. “Good dancers, good friends. And you need flower girls.”

Tyler wanted flowers, so Josh bought him a selection of his favourites from the florist and gave everyone a different type for their buttonholes. He gave the two girls, Debby and Jenna, baskets of white rose petals. Then he lined the church with them, and left them there as a donation. The minister was overjoyed to see his chapel so fragrant and decorated. Tyler cried again when he walked in and saw what Josh had done.

They walk up the aisle together, a bouquet in Tyler’s hand and arms linked, following Debby and Jenna as they scatter petals in their path. Brendon and Dallon stand at the front, and the minister looks as confused as ever, but he still doesn’t ask a single question.

He marries them, and Josh slides the silver ring from Tyler’s index finger to his ring finger. The minister even sheds a tear when Tyler leaps into Josh’s arms after the “I do”.

Tyler picks a daisy out of the bouquet and slips it into his buttonhole, then tosses the bunch of flowers over his head. It lands in Dallon’s arms, and he looks shocked. Brendon smiles and winks. If only they could.

After some persuasion, Tyler lets Josh bring him home after the wedding. They march into the Dun house, arm in arm, and Josh introduces his parents to his spouse.

William is shocked to see a blonde in a suit standing in his drawing room.

“Who is this girl?” Laura asks, looking Tyler up and down in confusion. “You never even mentioned you were courting anyone, Joshua.”

“Remember how you said you wished there was a secret Joseph I could marry?” Josh’s grip on Tyler’s arm tightens. He suddenly realises how much he risks if his parents take against this.

Tyler reaches up and pulls at his wig. His hair is mussed up from being flattened underneath it, but he’s unmistakably Tyler Joseph.

“Tyler?” William steps back. “You… You’re…”

“Born female, Mr Dun.” Tyler answers as smoothly as he did when Josh found out. “And I’m in love with your son.”

“I love him, father.” Josh swallows hard. “And I understand this may be a shock to you. But no one need know publically that Tyler and… my wife, are the same person.”

“I’m good at pretending.” Tyler runs his finger over his wedding ring. “I intend to live as myself, and make appearances as Mrs Dun when you should need me. But, Mr Dun, I’ll shed the guise of Tyler completely and live with Josh as his wife if you need me to, at least in the public eye. But I hoped you’d be a little more understanding.”

William lights a cigar from a box on a cabinet, and inhales. “It’s too late? You married in secret.”

Tyler raises his hand. “Yes.”

“And no one knows about your… dual identity?”

“A select few. My family, and approximately four others excluding Josh.”

William takes a deep breath. “Tyler Joseph need not die. But you will appear more feminine when posing as my son’s wife. I don’t know how or if you will pull it off, but if you bring my family into disrepute, I believe the shame would be punishment enough for yourself. God help us all.”

“What do we call you? When you are Josh’s wife?” Laura speaks up suddenly, tentatively stepping towards her son-in-law.

Tyler thinks for a second. “Talia.” He decides. “Similar enough to Tyler that I’d recognise it should someone call for me.”

“Not your real name?” Laura frowns.

“Tyler is my real name.” He replies simply.

“Then you accept him?” Josh asks, still terrified of the answer.

William rolls his eyes. “I would not have done what you did, Joshua. I’m upset you did not come to me before you made this decision. But…” He hesitates, and looks at Tyler. “If I had not been offered the chances in my life which got me to where I am now, my story would have been very different. Who am I not to give you a chance? Times are changing. Women have the vote, business is booming. I’m all for opportunity.”

Tyler trembles, and holds Josh to steady himself. “And you?” He turns to Laura.

She looks less certain, but her face softens as she smiles. “I love Joshua unconditionally. And anyone he loves, I love too. It is just… Unusual. I need to get used to it.”

“I understand it is difficult circumstances, Mrs Dun…” Tyler starts.

“Tyler.” Laura says softly. “I am happy to call you my son.” She steps forward and takes Tyler into her arms. Tears roll down both of their cheeks, and Josh lets out a sigh of relief.

It’s interrupted by his father laughing heartily.

“Father? What is so amusing to you?” Josh grins, confused by this outburst.

William wipes his eyes with a handkerchief in his breast pocket. “I was so glad you made connections with the Josephs.” He chuckles. “Thought you’d at most be business partners. It is funny how things turn out.”

“Our families would work well together.” Tyler interjects. “If Tyler Joseph is to continue, then so might our plans.”

“My darling.” Josh is laughing too, now. He puts his arm around his husband’s shoulder. “That is only the beginning.”

* * *

Talia Dun makes bi-weekly appearances in department stores, buying powder compacts and dresses. These dresses then make appearances at weekend socialite gatherings, where business discussions are kept to a minimum and Mr and Mrs Dun are widely regarded as the most adorable newly-weds.

At dinners, however, Joshua makes excuses for his wife’s absence, instead accompanying his business partner Tyler Joseph in shaking hands and striking deals. Mrs Dun is assumed to be uninterested in her husband’s work, preferring instead to stay at home and indulge her own interests. Tyler is amused when his associates make these assumptions about someone who is standing in front of them, actively partaking in the very thing they believe he shuns.

The circle of people who know of Tyler’s multiple identities expands slightly. The Dun household staff, who launder both Tyler’s dresses and his suits. The drivers, who pick up Tyler and Josh separately from soirees but take them to the same destination. And a couple of the businessmen the Duns and the Josephs work with, who notice the similarities between Josh’s wife and business partner. They keep their mouths shut and their wallets filled from the successes made through the partnership. Vagina or not, Tyler Joseph knows business like no other, and anyone would be foolish to out him.

One night, a year and a half after Tyler and Josh married, they are undressing and readying themselves for bed following a party at an associate’s. Tyler is unclipping his stockings from his garter belt, and his wig is set carefully on a mannequin’s head.

“I might consider politics, you know.” Josh announces, unfastening his tie.

“Politics?” Tyler frowns. “I suppose many men of our standing go into politics at some point.”

“Many men less honourable than you and I.” Josh laughs, pulling off his shirt and trousers.

“Why are you only considering this now?”

Josh sighs. “Another worker was injured this week. It’s dangerous on the factory floor, even in our factory. And we appreciate our workers.”

“And you want to go into politics because…” Tyler leans back on their bed, his chemise the only article of clothing left on his body.

“Because there should be regulations in place. For everyone to follow. My father lost two fingertips in the time he spent doing manual work. Some people lose their lives.”

“I see.” Tyler moves to one side to let Josh climb into bed next to him. “So you want change?”

“I do. It’s worth a try, anyway. There’ll be an election in a year or two, so I should start now.”

“You’ll be in the public eye.” Tyler crosses his legs over Josh’s.

“Can you handle that?” Josh bites his lip, brushing a longer strand of hair out of Tyler’s face.

He laughs. “I should think so. If you get me a new dress for any appearances.”

“How about a new suit?” Josh raises his eyebrows. “It’s becoming quite fashionable for women to wear suits. Like that… Chanel…”

“Coco Chanel?” Tyler offers.

“Yes! If you’d feel more comfortable in a suit as Talia, anyway. Although you do like your dresses.”

Tyler laughs. “I’ll consider it. It might be fun, blurring the line between genders.”

“Tyler, you smashed the line long ago. The line is in pieces at your feet.”

“I know.” Tyler throws his head back and laughs. “Isn’t it marvellous?”

“The very best.” Josh presses his lips against his husband’s, and he feels Tyler smiles into the kiss.

Tyler curls up in Josh’s arms, and sighs contentedly. “The very best.” He agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> Some thanks;  
> -emma, my lov, for being my beta.  
> -mother chicken, the swede, my favourite, for saying it was a good idea to write this.  
> -edy, who may never read this, but I'd be lying if I said Olympia didn't influence me even a little bit. so read that too.
> 
> Some notes;  
> -I hope this is historically accurate. I should know, but still. I hope my research was good enough.  
> -maybe the attitudes expressed in this aren't 100% unproblematic. I don't like the idea of Tyler thinking he was lying to Josh when they slept together the first time. but in the 1920s when attitudes where a whole lot more problematic than they are now? idk it fit. anyway I just wanted to put that out there.  
> -can you believe I've never read gatsby? listen I just really love Agatha Christie and I was watching rhpc and thought hey,, burlesque would be a fun au. maybe this isn't burlesque either but that was my original train of thought.  
> -as always, if there's something that you disagree with/dislike, please tell me. I will listen.


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